Pink casted and with a vengeance
by Belisse
Summary: The pink cast was the beginning, but not the end of it. Sequel to Musings of a man in pain.
1. Chapter 1

**Title: Pink casted and with a vengeance.**

**Pairing: None**

**Genre: Humor, mostly mischief.**

**Sequel of Musings of a man in Pain.**

**Summary: The pink cast was the beginning, but not the end of it.**

**A/N: Well... I had a bit of time today and I decided to type this chapter, which I've had for some time now. This is the sequel of my smallest story ever. But a lot of you asked for it. It will probably be 2 - 3 chapters long. This will be part of my Friends are Foes series, but you don't have to read the series to get this, just Musings. Thanks to Mel for the beta!  
**

**Enjoy!**

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**Chapter I: Allies**

John Sheppard held on tightly to his crutches, having a cast on his leg had put a stop to all his regular activities. As he moved through the hallways of the city, the pink almost sparkled in the distance. It's been two weeks since the accident, and this whole ordeal was driving him mad already.

Revenge was something that could no longer wait. Because of Ford and Rodney, John had to endure the laughs and side comments about his choice of color of his cast. Now there were other things on his mind. And he knew of one person who might be able to help him in this miserable hour.

John made his way towards the laundry room, entering, he noticed that there weren't conventional washers and dryers around. The Atlantis version of a washer was as tall as a refrigerator, with a big square door in the middle. There were at least ten of these machines and as he looked closely the machines, he realized that they didn't appear to use any water. It seemed as though the machines used some kind of light from the inside.

John stopped, he wondered for a minute why the hell he was here. But then he remembered it was for a very specific reason; he needed help. This revenge was meant for the people he would have gone to if they weren't the ones involved in his misfortune. Elizabeth won't help him on something like this, at this moment he didn't know if Zelenka was a reliable ally or if Bates would be willing to do something like this. Only one person came to mind, Stella Roig; the one in charge of the laundry room, who had access to a lot of stuff and once admitted to John that she had pulled some nasty pranks in her time. John was hoping that he would be able to use to get her to help him.

John took another good look around; there were clothes everywhere, on the floor, bags of clothes on tables and inside all of the machines. John realized that this was the first time he had been in this room. However, the room looked completely devoid of human life. John did his best to walk through the mess until he gave up and resorted to shouting, "Stella! Are you here?"

An airman walked out of the back room and looked at John. "She's in the spare room, sir."

John frowned. "Spare room?"

The airman walked towards one of the washers and pressed a button, then he started taking clothes out, "Spare clothes, just walk outside and is right next door to the left."

John nodded and walked out, and slowly made his way towards the room next door. He opened the door and found that this other room just had cabinets and drawers in. John found Stella crouched down fixing some shirts on a drawer.

Feeling the door opening, Stella turned around and saw John, she smirked. "Hey Major! Nice cast!"

John gave Stella a sarcastic smile, and replied, "I knew you would like it."

Stella stood up and faced John. "So, what brings you to the spare room?"

For a moment John didn't wanted to bring the issue and looked around the room, "So, what's all this?"

"The name explains it pretty clear. If you need spares, you come to me. The military gave us some boxes filled with them. But they were unguarded and everyone who believed that a small spot on a shirt was reason enough to have a new one, were helping themselves, without restriction. And we're cut off from earth, now everyone who needs new clothes has to have a proper reason."

John raised an eyebrow. "Proper reason?"

Stella crossed her arms across her chest. "Accidents resulting in injuries which are infirmary worthy. You know they have a tendency of cutting the clothes off of people! Also, torn clothes, really old, damaged or burnt items, that kind of thing. Now that I think of it, it's a wonder that you haven't been down here sooner."

"Well, I made sure I had enough clothes in my room."

Stella eyed him suspiciously. "But you didn't come down here, with just one good leg, to talk about my work."

John gave her a small smile, "No, actually I didn't."

"What do you want?"

John tilted his head to the side and stared at Stella, "Do you know where I can get some of that itching powder you used?"

Stella opened her eyes, "I have no idea what you're talking about."

"Yeah, right. And you didn't spray that stuff on Kavanagh's clothes a couple of months ago."

John was smiling, but Stella was dead serious, and John decided to try a new tactic, "Stella, look at my leg. I didn't tell Carson to give me a pink cast!"

Stella smiled. "I heard about what happened."

John shifted a bit, as much as he could with his crutches in the way. "So, will you help me?"

Stella stayed quiet for a minute, "Well... I can't do it. Because they'll know it was me. But I can get you some of the powder."

John now looked, pleading, "Come on Stella, I can't do this alone."

Stella started to close all the cabinets. "Major, if all the itchy clothes come from the laundry room, they will know."

John nodded, he knew what she was saying was true.

Then Stella continued giving John a most innocent look. "But if you spray it on their drawers, they might never know."

John smiled. "I can manage that. Just give me the tools and I'll do it. I just need some help."

Stella finished closing the remaining cabinets, and turned to John. "Ok, but I won't take part in any of it... except for helping to get you the powder."

John smiled. "It's only fair."

Stella returned the smile, "Alright! Let's do it, you pink-casted man!"

-0-0-0-0-0-0-

Stella gave John a small container containing the itching powder, which had a faint reddish color. The plan was almost complete in his head. He would take his time in carrying out the revenge. John slowly made his way towards Rodney's lab.

Once there, he found Rodney deep in his work, Rodney looked up and eyed John suspiciously. "Hi... what are you doing here?"

John hid the smile that was threatening to get out and sat down across from Rodney. "Nothing..."

Rodney put down the Ancient object in his hand and stared at John, "It can't be just 'nothing'. Are you sure you don't have any thoughts of revenge in that head of yours?"

John shook his head. "No, that's in the past Rodney."

"Are you sure?"

"Rodney, it was a meaningless prank. I'm not going to die because I have a pink cast on my leg."

Rodney shifted nervously on the spot. "You sure looked as if you were having a heart attack when you saw me."

John leant back in his chair. "Ok, I admit I was angry... but I'm not anymore and I'm getting bored in being alone all the time."

"So... we're good?"

"We're fine."

Rodney relaxed and John stood up. "So, I see you at dinner?"

"Sure."

John turned around and walked out of the lab. Once outside, he made his way towards Ford's quarters.

Once there John knocked on the door, and Ford quickly opened, instantly giving John a nervous smile. "Sir... hi."

John sensed the tension in the young soldier. "At ease soldier, we're off duty."

Ford seemed to relax. "So, what brings you here sir?"

John looked around. "Nothing, I just wanted to talk with you. Can I come in?"

Ford hesitated for a moment, but then replied, "Sure, come in sir."

John had prepared a conversation in his mind, but before he said a word, Ford looked straight at him and said, "I'm sorry about your cast, sir. We never thought that you were going to react like you did."

John knew that Ford was feeling a bit bad about the prank. John had to admit it, at least to himself, he had gotten pretty angry. But for now, he was playing it cool, so he weaved a hand dismissing the apology, "It's ok, Lieutenant, don't worry about that." Then John looked around the room and noticed that on the desk there was a glass of water. His mind ran in record time and then noticed that the desk was besides the clothes cabinet. It was the perfect opportunity, John walked towards the desk specifically towards the chair. "What I'm here for is to ask you..." Trying to be as subtle as possible, John sat down, and knocked the glass to the floor, sending water and glass all over the desk. John tried to look shocked and apologetic. "Damn it! I'm sorry."

Ford acted quickly. "No worries, sir. Let me clean it up."

Ford went into the bathroom and John took a moment to spray some of the powder on the bed.

Ford came out of the bathroom with a towel and started cleaning the mess.

John put on his sorry face again, trying to hide the grin that was forming on his mouth, "I'm sorry, I guess that with these-" he pointed at the cast and crutches. "-I can't move as well as I thought."

Ford was finishing picking up the glass pieces from the floor when he replied, "It was my bad, for keeping the glass there, sir."

John didn't say anything else; instead he took a look around the room, then at the clothes cabinet. He wondered which the underwear drawer was. Something told him to try the first one, so when Ford returned to the bathroom, John quickly opened the drawer and there it was. Then he sprayed some of the powder inside and closed it quickly. When Ford walked back into the room, John stood up and grabbed his crutches. "I think I have caused enough damage here for today."

"It's fine, sir"

John took a step towards the door and stopped for a moment, "Want to join me in the rec room. I'm watching the football tape."

"Sure."

John smiled and walked out of the room with Ford behind him. He smiled inwardly, phase one was complete.

TBC...


	2. phase 2

**A/N: More mischief. This one is a bit slow, but I promise that the last one will be up sometime this week. Enjoy! Again, thanks to my beta Mel.  
**

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Chapter II: Phase 2

Ford was walking in direction of his room. He wanted a shower, dinner and an early night. Being around the Major was an exhausting ordeal; not because Ford was doing much, but because he expected that any minute the Major was going to forget about the friendly game and hit him with one of his crutches.

A couple of times it seemed that way to Ford, especially when the Hail Mary play was coming up; suspiciously one of the Major's crutches flew very close to Ford's head, as Major Sheppard jumped up on the couch excited about the play. Ford knew that the Major liked football, but how many times had he seen this tape? The excitement should've worn off after a couple of times.

As he walked aimlessly, Ford took a left and stumbled into McKay, who in turn, was looking a bit stressed. "Lieutenant Ford, I was looking for you."

Ford kept walking in the direction of his room, "What is it, Doc?"

"Has Major Sheppard talked to you today?

Ford stopped, "Yeah... I was with him just now, watching the football tape."

McKay frowned, "Really? And did he said anything about... you know... what we did?"

Ford nodded and replied, "I apologized to him. He said it was nothing, and then he invited me to the rec room."

"That's weird."

"Kind of, yeah. But he was acting very cool about it too."

Rodney scratched his head, "That can't be right. You know how he reacted."

Now it was Ford's time to frown, "Do you think he's planning something?"

Rodney crossed his arms around his chest, "Maybe… but he's difficult to read sometimes."

They stayed silent for a moment, and Rodney continued, "Have you seen him speaking with anyone he doesn't usually talk to?"

Ford shook his head, "No, and please stop it. You're making me paranoid."

Rodney started to pace back and forth, "Sorry. Maybe I'm just paranoid myself. But just let me know if something happens or if you see something."

"McKay, stop it!"

McKay massaged his forehead and replied, "Ok, talk to you later."

Seeing McKay walk away, Ford started thinking about what the doctor had said. Even if the Major was still angry, Ford didn't believe him to be a man who would take nasty revenge. And with that thought Ford walked into his room.

-0-0-0-0-0-0-

John was still waiting for McKay in the Mess Hall. There was no food tray on his table, only a water jar and his glass. Phase 2 was about to begin and he didn't wanted to leave the table, at least until McKay arrived. The trap was set; he only needed the little mice to come crawling. He looked at his glass and sipped some water. Suddenly out of nowhere someone walked past, behind him and placed a bottle of ketchup on the table. The bottle had a post-it note stuck to it. John looked around and Stella was walking out of the mess hall.

John took the note in his hands and read the note; _Give it to McKay. Happy hunting! _He pocketed the note. John stared at the bottle utterly confused; they had already set out the plan for McKay. Before he could figure it out, McKay sat in front of him.

"Major."

John smiled, "Rodney." he started playing with the ketchup bottle, "I've been waiting for you for almost an hour."

Rodney gave him a sarcastic smile, "Of course, I was just playing around in my lab so I could eat this late. Some of us have to work Major."

"Yeah... sure."

Rodney eyed him suspiciously and started eating. Absentmindedly, John opened the ketchup bottle and dripped a bit of sauce onto his finger. Once he licked it, he regretted it, his tongue felt as if it was on fire, and it spread to his throat. Trying to remain calm, John coughed and drank the sip of water left in his glass. He couldn't take more, if he did, the plan might get ruined. He coughed again.

Rodney stared at John, "Are you ok?"

John swallowed and replied, "I'm ok. I just have this" -John pointed to his throat- "tickle."

Rodney moved to take the water jar, "Want some more water?"

John shook his head, "Nah, I'm ok." Then he took his crutches and stood up, "Well, it's late. I'm tired. Have a good night Rodney."

Rodney waved his hand and moved to pick the ketchup bottle.

John walked as quickly as he could with the crutches. Once he was at the exit door, he turned to look at Rodney. The man was pulling a face, as if he was having a heart attack. Then he saw Rodney reach for the water jar. John continued walking out as he heard Rodney coughing desperately, probably as he tried to drink as much water as possible.

John knew he had to thank Stella. The hot sauce was a nice touch. Because even if Rodney blamed him for the sauce, there is no way Rodney would know that there was a strong laxative in the water on the jar.


	3. The Evil Afterwards

**A/N: Last chapter, here we go. I really hope you all like it. Sorry it took so long, but the typing muse was taking a vacation. Thankfully today I forced her into submission. Thanks to Mel for all your help!**

**Enjoy!**

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**Chapter 3: The evil afterwards.**

Lt. Ford slept, but he slept badly. At first there was an uncomfortable itch inside his underwear. Not good. But then the itch started spreading all over his body. His body felt weird, as if hundreds of bugs were eating him alive. First he took off his clothes, and tried sleeping in the buff, but it didn't work; it only made it worse.

The itch was bad, not only he did he need to scratch everywhere, but it burned fiercely.

-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-

Rodney was in his lab, trying to get some work done. He was still angry about the hot sauce thing, and his mouth was still burning. John Sheppard was going to pay, this wasn't over. As he fussed over an Ancient object his stomach rumbled; not good.

Then stabbing pains shot out across it. Rodney dropped everything he was working on and ran to the bathroom. John Sheppard was going to die, with a spoon to his heart.

-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-

John was sleeping cozily, nice and really comfortable, when there was a knock on the door. John opened his eyes, and tried to stand up, as he rid himself of the sleepiness. With the help of his crutches he made it to the door and opened it up; it was Peter Grodin. "Major Sheppard, Dr. Weir is requesting your presence in her office."

John frowned. "Okay… thanks. I'll be there in 10 minutes." John closed the door, then he proceeded to take a quick bath and make his way towards Elizabeth's office.

As he approached her office he tried to read her expression, but failed miserably. Once he arrived at the door, she said, without taking her eyes off the computer, "Sit down, John."

John stepped inside the office and sat on the chair facing Elizabeth's desk. Once seated, Elizabeth looked up at him and glared. John frowned, "What?"

Elizabeth breathed deeply, pushed her computer to the side and rested her elbows on the desk. "Would you care to explain to me why there are two members of this expedition in the infirmary?"

John pulled his most innocent face, "Was there an accident somewhere?"

Elizabeth put her arms down, "John, you have to stop behaving like a 5 year old."

"What did I do?"

John could have sworn that if looks could kill, Elizabeth's would've been choking him. But then she continued, trying to keep calm. "Let's see… Lt. Ford can't stop scratching and then there's Rodney McKay, who can't be more than 5 feet away from a bathroom."

John wanted to smirk, but he couldn't do it, not in front of Elizabeth. It would sign his death certificate. He tried to remain as innocent-looking as possible, "Does Carson knows what's wrong with them?"

Elizabeth nodded, "Yes, it's the Sheppard sickness."

John didn't expect that, at least not so soon. "What!"

Elizabeth's expression remained neutral. "John, I talked to Stella Roig. Don't pretend you don't know anything."

John cringed, _Stella the traitor_. But Elizabeth continued, "And before you go and make her hair turn orange or put some salt in her coffee, I knew before talking to her. I feel I must tell you, she put up quite a fight."

John was at a loss of words, "How do you…"

Elizabeth smirked, "Don't use the same technique twice. She had already used the itching powder on Kavanagh. He even complained that time, only then, I decided to ignore it."

John crossed his arms over his chest defensively, "They deserved it!"

Elizabeth stood up and moved towards John, "No, John! I'm not saying that what they did was right. I wouldn't have minded a change of hair color, or if it only was hot sauce on the ketchup bottle. But what you did was mean, and to be honest don't expect me to intervene if they decide to retaliate. I'll just make sure you don't kill each other. Now, please go to the infirmary and tell Carson exactly what you did, so he can treat them."

That was the end of the conversation, no point in arguing. John knew that Elizabeth was going to be mad at him for a while, so it was better to back out and do what she said. He stood up and walked out with the help of his crutches.

Quietly he made his way towards the infirmary. Once he walked in, Carson's glare shot daggers at him. "In my office! NOW!"

John made his way towards Carson's office and while he walked through the infirmary he passed by Ford, who was trying to scratch a spot in his back with the IV pole. Ford was getting a bit desperate, but then John stumbled unto Rodney.

Rodney looked ready to kill. "You!" Rodney wagged his finger in John's face. But then, his face changed from a glare into a pained expression and he let out a groan, "You! I hate you!" And with those words, Rodney ran towards the bathroom.

John couldn't resist the urge to smirk, as he walked into Carson's office. He waited, and seconds later Carson walked in; he was so angry he could barely contain his rage. Without waiting too much, John looked Carson in the eye, and told him what he had done.

After that, Ford was able to get the itching under control, and Rodney had to stay overnight in the infirmary, as Carson feared that he might dehydrate.

John knew the fight wasn't over, but the days passed by and John didn't hear even as much as a peep from Rodney and Ford. Rodney was giving him the silent treatment, and Ford just fulfilled his duties as 2IC. Things continued like this for a while, and then one week later John had the cast removed. Now he was starting to worry that they had been waiting for him to fully recover before retaliating.

Finally, one morning after breakfast, he was heading towards his room, to pick up some things and go to a debriefing of their next mission.

When he opened the door, he knew that retaliation time had started as he slipped and almost fell on his butt. When John looked at the floor, there was cooking oil over the entrance. Retaliation… John was accepting it, and maybe this thing would be over. He made a mental note to send someone to clean it up. So he picked up a notebook, but before leaving he made a stop into the bathroom.

Once in the bathroom, standing in front of the toilet, John knew this was war. The thing had escalated into full war in seconds, because someone and he had a pretty good idea of whom; had placed clear saran wrap on his toilet bowl.

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A/N: I know I left it sort of open for more. But this is the end, though, I'm willing to do an epilogue, but only if you people want it. Because I would need some ideas, brain is currently just goo.


	4. Epilogue

**A/N: I want you all to know that for some reason I felt so disappointed for what I wrote on the last chapter, that instead of fixing it. I decided to add the epilogue anyways. Thanks Mel for all your help. Any mistakes and insanity are all mine as I did this with a fever and the cold from hell. **

**Enjoy!**

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**Epilogue**

It took him longer than usual to get to the debriefing. He had to take a bath after discovering first hand that the toilet bowl had saran wrap on top of it, when he tried to pee. John knew that retaliation was in order, but that in some way he might have deserved it. But, as he arrived at the debriefing 15 minutes late, seeing the smug faces of Rodney and Ford, he knew something had to be done.

Elizabeth stared at him in disbelief as he excused himself for being late. He didn't say what the exact reason for him being late was and fortunately, Elizabeth didn't push the point. The debriefing passed without incident, but with John still wondering what he was going to do next. Whatever it was going to be, it would have to be different, because if Elizabeth found out about this, he'd be royally screwed. Actually, she had said she wouldn't have minded a change of hair color. That could give him an idea… maybe a couple.

Once the briefing was done, he left and started doing his morning round. On his way, he passed by Stella's work place, and walked in. Stella was buried behind a computer, doing God knows what. John couldn't identify what the hell she was doing, as she was also taking notes on a notepad.

When he walked in, she looked up and glared at him. "The answer is no, Colonel."

John froze on the spot, "What? What makes you think I came to ask you for something?"

Stella gave him a fake smile, "The fact that you're here is a good indication!"

"You don't know what they did!"

"And I don't want to know, I have enough to do as it is. The answer is still no, Colonel. I don't want anymore problems with Dr. Weir."

John knew that there was no point in arguing anymore. He turned around and left, but he wasn't giving up. He just needed to change tactics. John was now fully healed, so he would be able to get a thing or two done by himself.

-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-

With a life signs detector in one hand and a dark bag in the other, John made his way towards Ford's room. There were a few people around, but he wanted to be as stealthy as humanly possible. Once or twice he had to stop and pretend he was doing something, while a scientist passed by or a soldier was doing his round.

He arrived at the room and quickly checked for life signs. _No one, good._ John opened the door and walked in, heading straight into the bathroom. He looked through the simple bottles of products. He picked the hair conditioner, and then he proceeded to empty it into the toilet. Once that was done, John took a quick glace at the life signs detector, _Good, the coast was still clear_.

John got the black bag and took a bottle out of it. He knew that the owner of this bottle was going to explode when she found out, but it was all for a good cause…. Getting even. John poured the contents of the bottle into the conditioner bottle. If this worked out, not only was it going to be funny, but it would teach them not to mess with him.

Once finished, John put the bottle back in the bag and the hair conditioner back where it was. Satisfied, he smiled, took another look at the life signs detector and walked out. This part was done.

-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-

But what John didn't know was that Rodney and Ford had more plans for him. Once he was asleep, Rodney and Ford snuck into John's room and as quietly as possible they started painting the Colonel's face with a magic marker, writing obscene words on his forehead and putting weird drawings on the rest of his face. John was a deep sleeper that night, so he only moved once or twice. Ford proceeded to put shaving cream on the palms of both of John's hands, then moved into the bathroom and filled the tip of the toothpaste tub with Orajel.

Once that was done, Ford climbed onto the bed and stood there with a small radio, which Rodney handed him. Then Rodney headed for the light controls, and he signaled Ford to start at the count of three. Rodney signaled with his hand, one, two…three.

The lights were turned on; Ford turned the radio on as loud as it would go and started jumping up and down on the bed at the same time.

Rodney regretted then, not bringing his camera with him. John's reaction was way too funny; he sat bolt upright in bed and shouted. He brought his hands to his face and splattered the shaving cream all over. Disorientated, he tried to get out of the bed and fell to the floor, while Ford stepped down from the bed and joined Rodney by the door. They were howling with laughter, seeing John's face suddenly realizing what was going on, they turned around and ran out of the room.

John was left in his room, with shaving cream all over his face. He was already fuming and then, even more so, when he saw himself after he'd washed off the shaving cream. He swore that they were going to die; he had a moustache and a goatee. Then he stared at the word on his forehead; how the hell was he going to explain that the next day?

He scrubbed his face a couple more times and then gave up, and returned to sleep. Ford already had his comeuppance on the way, but next it was Rodney's turn, and with that thought, he went to sleep.

-0-0-0-0-0-

After having to wait 15 angry minutes until his mouth de-numbed, John started thinking of what he was going to do. Having finally got the sensation back in his mouth, he walked out. John had to avoid the amused glances headed his way once he stepped out of his room.

It took a lot of convincing, but he managed to get Zelenka to help him, even if it was only letting him hide in Rodney's lab, and not saying anything. John knew the only reason Zelenka was helping him, was because he wanted front row viewing of the event that was going to unfold.

-0-0-0-

Rodney arrived with his coffee mug, shouting orders and instructions. Zelenka was by his side organizing the day's work.

When suddenly John came out of his hiding place, with a fire extinguisher in hand. As quietly as he could, he approached Rodney and in one swift movement he shoved the hose inside Rodney's pants. Then he sprayed the foamy, ice cold substance as long as he could.

Rodney's first reaction was to yelp at the intrusion, but then he screamed at the cold inside his pants. Trying to make it stop, Rodney turned around and saw John sprinting out of the lab. There was a smirk on his marker-painted face, as he said, "Have a nice day Rodney!"

Rodney was very glad that there was a bathroom in the lab; at least he could take all the foam out, but still the top part of his pants was all wet, looking as if he had wet himself. Once he rid himself of the foam, he walked towards the exit to change his pants. When he opened the door Lt. Ford was coming the other way. Except that Lt. Ford looked different this morning, Rodney noticed that there were small bald patches all over his head.

Ford was almost on the verge of panic, he was speechless, but pointing at his head. Rodney had to laugh, this was getting ridiculous. Suddenly he had an idea. "Lt. Ford, follow me please."

Ford patted his almost bald head. "What do you have in mind?"

Rodney was doing some quick thinking, and then he stared at his wrist. He had a rubber band and took it off. Then he glanced at Ford, "Where do you think Colonel Sheppard is right now?"

Ford answered quickly, "The mess hall."

Rodney smiled and started walking towards the mess hall. When they entered, Rodney quickly spotted John. They ignored the stares from the people around them, as Rodney started to turn the rubber band until it was all in a tight coil. He was going to take advantage of John having his back towards them. But Rodney was so concentrating so hard on keeping the rubber band coiled up. As he pulled it tight, and took another glance at the back of John's head, Elizabeth appeared at his side.

Rodney's hand jumped as he was startled, and the rubber band ended up pinging into Elizabeth's hair.

She froze for a moment, throwing a questioning look at Rodney, "What was that?"

Rodney's eyes opened wide, as Elizabeth reached out to touch her hair. The rubber band was heavily tangled in there. For a moment, she tried to pull it out, but it was difficult and it hurt.

Being the diplomat that she is, she left the rubber band alone. "Follow me gentleman." Then she turned towards John and called him. "Colonel Sheppard, in my office. NOW!"

John had no idea what was going on, but seeing Rodney and Ford there, he got a pretty good idea. He stood up and followed the odd group. The leader with something in her hair, the scientist with wet pants, the soldier with bald patches in his head and the ranking military officer with a face full of black ink.

Once they arrived at her office, all three men sat down and watched in silence as Elizabeth took the rubber band out of her hair. In the end, she had no choice but to cut her hair. Thankfully there were only a few strands, so it was easy to conceal. When she was done, she stared at them, like a principal looking at naughty students.

John frowned, "What? Don't look at me, I didn't start this."

Elizabeth didn't say anything, as Ford turned around, "With all due respect, sir, what the hell did you do to my hair?"

John shifted in his chair and replied very quickly, "Hair removal cream."

Rodney made a face, "Oh, that's just low."

John glared at Rodney, "Yeah, I was feeling pretty bad for him this morning while I drooled for 15 minutes. Besides, what you did last night was just as low."

"Wake up, Colonel. Last night was nothing…"

Elizabeth stood up and cut him off. "Gentlemen. This will be the last time a thing like this gets so out of hand. For the next three months you three will share the duties of cleaning the bathrooms and shower areas. I understand that being here is a 24 hour job, and we all need to relax. But you're here to do a job, not to tear each other apart. Is that understood?"

They looked like they wanted to argue, but nothing they managed to remain silent. Ford nodded, Rodney grumbled and John simply shrugged.

Elizabeth wasn't convinced by their acceptance. "I mean it! I don't want to include this on a report, but I will." Seeing that the message had gotten through, Elizabeth continued, "Now, John, could you please rub some alcohol on your face. Rodney, please change your pants and Lt. Ford see if you can find someone with a shaver for your head. And please, all of you go back to work."

Elizabeth tried to fix her hair once more, checking if there was much damage. As she watched the trio walk out of the control room, she knew that they wouldn't stop. But today's incident, would make them back off for a couple of months at least and she could live with that for now.

-0-0-0-0-

Three days after being caught by Elizabeth, Rodney was still looking over his shoulder. He was careful with what he ate and what took from others. But somehow Rodney knew that there would be no end until somehow John Sheppard got the last laugh. And he was going to prevent it at all costs. Except, the next morning, he had a reality check. It had all started with a pink cast, and somehow Rodney knew that the end was near, when he looked in the mirror and stared at his pink hair.

FIN… really!


End file.
